


A Matter of Convenience

by potentiality_26



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: F/M, First Time, Marriage of Convenience, Not Trailer Compliant, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-21 03:10:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11935083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/potentiality_26/pseuds/potentiality_26
Summary: “How long have the two of you... been involved?” some distant cousin of Harry’s was asking.  The way she looked down her nose at Roxy like she was some kind of grubby gold digger- which, fair, actually- was made considerably more tolerable by the knowledge that she was quivering from her stupid feathered hat to her neatly polished shoes at the thought of Harry getting married after all.“A few months,” Roxy told her.  Since that was how long she and Harry been working as partners, it seemed the best answer.  Roxy liked to keep a lie as close to the truth as possible.Harry finds himself in need of a wife.  Roxy volunteers.





	A Matter of Convenience

**Author's Note:**

> Can anyone spot the joke I use in here that I also used in [The Lie](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4856018)? I probably could have changed it, but I didn't feel like it.
> 
> Not Brit-picked.

“Are you all right?” Roxy asked Harry after they had been on the plane for about thirty minutes. 

Harry wasn’t usually so quiet, or so gruff when he did speak.  Months ago, when Merlin had first taken to pairing her with Galahad for missions when she- or he- needed a partner, Roxy might have appreciated the opportunity to go over her notes on the assignment for the dozenth time without any chatting. 

But she was used to him now, so the quiet set her off balance.  So she asked, and then she waited, supposing that he would confide in her if he wished and brush her off if he didn't. 

Eventually he said, “I got a call just before we left.  My uncle is dead.”

His tone was so impassive that it was difficult for Roxy to calibrate her response.  She settled on, “I’m sorry.”

Harry shrugged.  “We weren’t close.”  He lifted a hand, rubbing it lightly over his brow.  “I was, however, his closest living relative.  Accordingly he left his not-inconsiderable estate to me in his will.  But there was a... stipulation.  That I would inherit only if I was married.”

Roxy considered that for a while in silence.  "That's very Victorian, isn't it?" 

Harry smiled tightly.  "Very." 

She fell silent again, wondering why.  Of course, she knew from personal experience that people with not-inconsiderable estates often were very Victorian about things.  She suspected it was about settling down or carrying on the family line- things that Harry probably hadn't shown much interest in thus far. 

Eventually she said, “Well.  Shall we talk about our assignment instead?  I’m a little concerned about plan B.”

“And you’d like to formulate a plan C, is that it?”  The smile on his face started to look more genuine.

“Always,” she said.  It was why Merlin had taken to pairing them together in the first place; he hoped that she could balance out Harry’s tendency to just do whatever occurred to him in the moment.  For the most part it worked- and Roxy really did want a plan C just in case.

They had more important things to think about than Harry’s uncle and his bizarre will. 

*   *   *

But Roxy couldn’t stop thinking about it.

“How not inconsiderable?” she asked while the two of them were navigating a glittering ballroom in search of their target.

“Hmm?”  Harry took hold of her and swept her out onto the dance-floor, which Roxy had learned was an excellent way to get a look at everyone at a party without being too obvious about it.

His big hand came to rest around her waist, warm and grounding, and his inheritance or lack thereof kept springing to her mind.  “You said your uncle’s estate was ‘not inconsiderable.’  I was wondering just how big it technically is.”

“Ah,” Harry said.  "Well, I haven't got any exact figures at the moment, but if you were imagining something in the Pemberley area you wouldn't be far off."

Roxy whistled.

Harry's eyes crinkled.  "Indeed."

Her hand slid across the broad plane of his shoulder, drawing him closer.  “I see our target,” she said.  “He’s at your 7 o’clock.”

“Excellent,” Harry said, and spun her around. 

Roxy had learned already that there was a great deal of hurry up and wait in intelligence work, so she wasn’t surprised when she found herself thinking about it again.

Their target was by that time in the boot of the car.  Harry was driving to the rendezvous point where a few of Merlin's people would have a chat with the target about certain weapons he was dealing.  He had already evaded the man's bodyguards- those Roxy hadn't taken care of back at the ballroom, that was.  She was happy now to sit back and watch.  Eggsy was technically the best driver in Kingsman, but Harry had a certain... panache. 

"What happens to it all?" she asked him.  "If you're not-"

"Married?  The assets will be broken up evenly among certain of my relatives- a bunch of entitled vultures, the lot of them.”

Harry sounded offended at the very thought.  Roxy immediately pictured a whole pack of Charlies, some in skirts and pearls.  “I take it you don’t want that to happen?”

He sighed and took a sharp turn.  “It’s not as if it really matters.  I don’t need the money, or the house.  It’s the principle of the thing.  That inheritance is mine, or it would be if my uncle wasn’t such a prick- and they’re gathering as we speak to profit from it.”

"Did he..." Roxy considered her wording carefully.  "Did he leave you time to _get_ married?" 

"Of course he did."  A pounding came from the boot of the car.  Harry flicked his eyes in that direction via the rear-view mirror, and then towards her.  “Are you suggesting I find someone to marry me?”

“For the principle of the thing, yes.”

Harry looked amused.  “Just how many people do you think would be willing to marry me for the principle of the thing?”

“I would,” Roxy said without thinking much about it.  “Though the money wouldn’t come amiss either.  I’m not getting a thing from my family.”  The fact that she was out of her family's good graces for more or less the same reasons as Harry- a refusal to settle down with the right kind of partner- did play a part, but she preferred not to mention it.

"It would be practical solution," Harry said as he came to a screeching halt at the rendezvous point.  He sounded... thoughtful. 

*   *   *

As her affection for plans B and C would indicate, Roxy lived a reasonably unimpulsive life.  The most spur of the moment thing she had done in recent memory was join Kingsman- and even that, in hindsight, was something Uncle Percy had been training her for since childhood.  She wouldn't have become Lancelot if she couldn't think on her feet, of course- but Roxy liked to consider things from all sides first and be very careful about how she proceeded.   

And yet there she was three days later, holding a glass of wine in one hand and Harry’s black-clad arm in the other, attending a home memorial service and introducing herself as his fiancée. 

“How long have the two of you been... involved?” some distant cousin of Harry’s was asking.  The way she looked down her nose at Roxy like she was some kind of grubby gold digger- which, fair, actually- was made considerably more tolerable by the knowledge that she was quivering from her stupid feathered hat to her neatly polished shoes at the thought of Harry getting married after all.

“A few months,” Roxy told her.  Since that was how long she and Harry been working as partners, it seemed the best answer.  Roxy liked to keep a lie as close to the truth as possible. 

“We were going to have a longer engagement,” Harry picked up.  “But- well.  Things happen.”

Roxy almost snorted.  It was just like Harry to say aloud what everyone in the room would be thinking but trying so hard not to say.  That this was about the will, pure and simple.

The cousin’s face attained a sort of waxy quality.

Harry smiled benignly.  “Will you excuse us?”

The cousin nodded a bit too hard.

Harry swept Roxy away, whispering in her ear, “This is rather fun.”  Under the watchful eyes of his relatives, he pressed a kiss to the sensitive skin under her ear. 

She agreed, but Harry must have seen something in her face that made him doubt it because he tugged her out into the hallway instead of towards another gaggle of relations.

“This doesn’t have to go any further, you know,” Harry said once they were away from prying eyes.  “I can tell everyone in a week or two that you ran off with the pool boy or the maid.”

Roxy half laughed, half choked on a sip of her wine.  

But Harry looked dead serious.  “I can say that I’m simply too heartbroken to contemplate marriage right now, and the family will have had their scare.  I told you- I don’t need this.  I’d like to stick it to them, of course I would, but it’s not worth it if you’re the least bit uncomfortable.”

“I’m not uncomfortable,” she protested.  He looked doubtful, and… all right, she was- but not because of him.  Or, at least, not because of anything he was doing on purpose.  She was actually rather enjoying herself, except that every once in a while the metallic coolness of the diamond ring on her finger- which could neatly cut through glass if she wanted it to, and produce a laser- would force itself to the forefront of her mind, and she would think _engaged we’re meant to be engaged._   And her heart would stutter unpleasantly in her chest.  “I’ve pretended to be your wife before,” she said, for her own benefit as much as his. She honestly didn’t understand why this felt so different. 

“But you weren’t actually going to _be_ my wife.  Merlin wasn’t actually getting the paperwork for it together.”

Roxy slumped back against the wall.  “It’s not as if I was going to marry anyone else.”

“But you might want to one day," Harry pointed out, settling very close to her.  "It would be an amicable divorce, but still a divorce.  Not everyone would understand.”

“I don’t think I would want to marry someone who wouldn’t understand.”

“Fair point.”

Roxy didn't think he was wrong about why she had found herself so unexpectedly jittery, and just having an answer made it easier for her to dismiss it.  She reached out, touching his lapels.  "You were right about this place being basically Pemberley.  I felt like Elizabeth Bennet when we walked in, and I’m damned if I’m watching these people break it up or sell it off when we could have it.  This wasn’t in the manual of situations to be prepared for, that's all."

To prove how much she meant it, Roxy set her wineglass on a nearby table and tugged him down toward her- something that was necessary even when she had on high heels- and kissed him full on the lips.  A cousin scurried uncomfortably by, and she felt Harry’s lips twitch upward into a smile against hers for a moment before he kissed her back and she stopped thinking about cousins altogether.  She knew from those other times she had pretended to be his wife- or his girlfriend or his mistress- that Harry was a good kisser, but it still sometimes made her knees feel a little like jelly.  She had to tighten her grip on his lapels.  "What manual?" he asked after a while.

"Percival wrote a manual for me."

Harry chuckled.  "Of course he did."

“Now.”  Roxy brushed nonexistent lint off of Harry’s shoulders.  “Shall we get back in there, Mr. Hart?” she asked.

“Why not, Miss Morton?”  Harry crooked his arm. 

Roxy slid her hand through it.  

*   *   *

Apparently, Merlin could get them married without much fuss and or effect to their actual personal lives.  Roxy appreciated the ease of it immensely, but it gave her little time to decide what to tell anyone.  She wasn’t even sure who she wanted to tell. 

Harry seemed to be in a similar situation.  All his relatives knew, of course- but as for anyone Harry actually liked... she wasn’t so sure about them.  Of course, this wasn't a situation that would be easily explained to anyone outside of it.  The only thing he asked her permission to do, in all the lead up, was put an announcement in the paper.  It was obviously important to him, so she agreed.  The end result was just a few lines, deep in a relatively obscure paper, but Harry snipped them out to keep and seemed as content as she had ever seen him. 

And that was all there was to it, it seemed.  Roxy woke up one morning and it was her wedding day.  She had never been one to dream about an elaborate ceremony, to fuss about the dress or the cake or the guest list- but it still felt a little unreal.  She had always thought all there had to be for a wedding was a day when they were both free, a few witnesses, and the person she loved.  Check, check, and- there was the rub.  Roxy wasn’t one to go on and on about the institution of marriage either, but she did think it meant something, to be a wife.  She liked Harry, and thought him attractive- he was very handsome, and she had always favored older men- but though she had tried to feel him out a few times that was as far as it went.  The job, their partnership, had always come first.  She wasn't sure how being married would change that, but she was still a little concerned that it would. 

Roxy stared up at her bedroom ceiling.  “Get a hold of yourself, Morton,” she said.

She rolled out of bed, showered, and put on her best Kingsman suit- the one Eggsy always said made her look very James Bond.  As she tied back her hair in front of the mirror, Roxy was pleased with her appearance but wondered whether Harry would be disappointed to marry a woman in a suit.  She reminded herself that Harry knew exactly who she was and how she was.  If he had a problem with any of it, they wouldn’t be doing this.  

It turned out she needn't have worried.  When they met in an out-of-the-way office at Kingsman HQ, he looked absolutely delighted.  "You’re not late,” Roxy said, to keep herself from saying anything even less helpful, like how edible he looked in his own suit.

Harry held out a hand, smiling.  “First time for everything.”

She laughed and threaded their fingers together.

Merlin was seated behind the desk, and the two witnesses in the back were Dagonet- the head tailor- and Percival, who kept shooting Harry dirty looks.  Roxy had told him what they were up to, of course, but by then it had been a little too late to _actually_ explain.  

The ceremony was of the civil variety and handled speedily by Merlin himself.  She wouldn't remember much of it later- just the warmth of Harry’s hand in hers, the crinkles around his eyes as he looked at her, and the strange- but not bad- twisty feeling in her stomach as she made her vows and he kissed her on the cheek.

When it was over, she saw Percival sign, “We need to talk,” from the far end of the room.

She signed back, “Later.”

Later, it seemed, would have to be much later, because the moment it was all over Merlin said, “Now that that’s over with, I’d like to see the both of you in my office.”

Roxy blinked.  “What for?”

“A mission, of course.”  Merlin had a maniacal gleam in his eyes.  “I have two legally married agents to send on their honeymoon.  If you think I’m not going to use that shamelessly, you have another thing coming."

*   *   *

The mission was... strange.

Well, no, that wasn’t true.  The mission was easy, the straightforward find-and-observe-the-target kind of thing that she and Harry had done several times to great success.  Roxy could see how in his way Merlin was doing them a favor, sending them in a nice tropical honeymoon at Kingsman’s expense by tacking it onto a mission that they could do in their sleep.

The strange part was their covers, or lack thereof.  Perhaps it said something about Roxy- something not particularly good- that she felt so odd being herself in the field.  It didn't help that her very life was a cover.  She had gotten a job in a tailor's shop of all places, and her parents were duly disappointed- that was Roxy Morton’s story.  And now Roxy Morton was newly married and going off on her honeymoon.  This proximity of their realish selves made it more than usually important than they not be tied to any unusual goings on- but that wasn’t the hard part, not for Roxy.  The hard part was figuring out where the cover ended and she began now that the lines had been decidedly blurred. 

She spent half the flight with her head on Harry's shoulder.  They checked into the hotel hand in hand, and Roxy reflected- from the shower once they arrived in their rooms- that she would have enjoyed all of it just as much if it was real.

Or- no.  That wasn't true.  She would have enjoyed it _more_. 

She came out of the shower barefoot and dressed in a towel- and found Harry seated on the bed, in his shirtsleeves and surrounded by plates bearing sandwiches.  "I thought you might not want to bother with a restaurant tonight, so I ordered room service," he said, between bites of one.   

"That bed is going to be full of crumbs," she said as she dried her hair with another towel. 

Harry's eyes crinkled and he moved one of the other plates closer to himself.  "Well, if you don't want one..."

Roxy's stomach gurgled helpfully and she laughed, casting the wet towel aside and joining him on the bed. 

*   *   *

Roxy woke the next morning to find herself lying across Harry.  She remembered climbing into bed early the night before, too tired to fuss much about the closeness.  But now... now she couldn't help noticing how warm he felt beneath her, how good his arm felt curled around her back.  When she looked up at his face she found him awake, his expression even harder to read than usual.  “Sorry,” she said, backing off.

“No need to apologize,” he replied.  His arm slipped from around her. 

Roxy reached up and over him, fumbling for her glasses where they lay next to his own on the bedside table.  The move brought her face very close to his.  Close enough to see that he was just faintly flushed.  It would take only the most economical of movements to bring her lips up to meet his, and something about that blush made Roxy wonder if he might not be thinking the same thing.

She got a grip on the glasses and eased up a little more- bumping her nose against his.

Harry laughed softly.

Roxy could feel the tension unspooling in both of them.  The moment, whatever it had been, was over for the time being.  Roxy pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and grinned at Harry.  It was just as well, she thought.  Probably she would make a move on him before the mission was over, but not just yet.  “What now?” she asked instead.

Harry smiled back at her.  "Now we get to work."

They dressed and took a walk- hand in hand again- through the hotel property.  The rooms were very nice- expensively but tastefully decorated- and the grounds were equally so, rich with lush grasses, exotic flowers and trees, jewel-like pools and restaurants with views of the beach.  They ate a breakfast of mostly fruit in one such place, and discussed their plan for the day.

"I think we ought to split up for a while," she said.  Their targets were a husband and wife, and early reconnaissance had not yet established which of them- if not both- was the person Kingsman sought.  "We'll have a better chance to get a feel for this place, and them."

Harry nodded thoughtfully, a piece of fruit held between long fingers.  "The spa for you and the gym for me, do you think?"

"Yes.  Not that I wouldn't prefer it the other way around."  She added that last in a murmur.  

He laughed, but agreed that it was a good plan.  That same early reconnaissance suggested their targets were likely to move along those lines, and they did have certain parts to play.  Harry, the handsome older man who had to keep in shape now that he had such a young wife.  Roxy, the pretty young thing who had her hands on a fortune but couldn’t afford to get complacent now. 

At the spa Roxy had herself waxed, strenuously.  It grounded her wonderfully- the sting of it, and the fact that it at least didn’t feel very much like her, very much like _them_.

They had agreed to meet by the pool in the afternoon, and that was where Roxy went next.  She ordered a drink and found herself a lounge chair, looking for her husband.  Hedonist that he was, she wasn't surprised to see him in the hot tub, but she was a little surprised by how dry her mouth went when he caught her eye and rose.  Water cascaded off the broad line of his shoulders and the still-flat plane of his stomach.  His damp hair- which had begun to dry to a charming curl- shone in the sunlight as he padded over and stretched out like a cat on the chair beside hers.

"Did you find the wife?" he asked.

"I saw her but we didn't speak," Roxy said.  She thought that was quite enough for the time being.  "You?"

"The same, more or less."

They discussed their observations quietly for a while, finding as they usually did that their opinions perfectly aligned.  Either the couple they were watching weren't involved anything dangerous, or they were both equally and deeply involved.  So far neither seemed more suspicious than the other.    

"Want to take a wager on which restaurant they'll go to tonight?"

"All right."  Roxy bet on the most expensive restaurant in the hotel, which the women working in the salon had praised highly. 

"Damn," Harry said, pouting.  "I was going to bet on that as well."

Roxy laughed and sipped her drink.   

"I think I'll go for another swim."  Harry rose smoothly and headed for the pool.  Roxy couldn't help tracing the well-muscled line of his back down to the waistband of his swimming trunks, and then down again to the place where they hugged the firm swell of his arse. 

He glanced behind him with heavy eyes- almost certainly aware of the direction her gaze had taken- and smirked.  "Coming?" he asked.

Roxy couldn't help herself.  She abandoned her drink and followed him. 

*   *   *

Roxy got a phone call while she was in the shower that evening, washing off after the pool. 

Taking private phones on missions and answering calls was typically frowned on at Kingsman- and Roxy actually appreciated that because it limited what contact she still had with her family.  But since she was actually supposed to be the one on vacation this time, she had in fact been encouraged to take her mobile.  The call was from her brother, who had just discovered her marriage and wasn’t pleased that the news had come to him secondhand.  Roxy decided to worry about calling him back in the morning, when- due to time zone differences- he would be unlikely to answer his phone. 

Just as she had the night before, Roxy came out of the bathroom with one towel wrapped around her body and the other in her hair.

Harry was wearing a light colored suit- the jacket off and wrapped around a chair as he bent over the table in the corner, using it as a writing desk.  He was probably making notes on their observations so far, but he looked up when she came in and frowned.  He sat back in the chair.  “Everything all right?” he asked.

She set her phone down by the bed and finished drying her hair, nodding.  “I got a call from my brother.”

He lifted a brow.

“He found out about us.”

“Ah,” he said.  “Is your family very unhappy?”

“About my secret wedding, somewhat.  About you, not at all.  You’re rich, well-established- and apparently your family is respected, even if you do dabble in tailoring.  It looks like marrying you was about the cleverest thing I’ve done in ages.”

The lines around Harry's eyes crinkled fetchingly.  “Does that make you glad or sorry you did it?”

Roxy laughed softly.  She put the towel aside and spent a long moment just looking at Harry.  Harry who couldn’t have been more different than her but who understood her so well.  She might not have liked to act impulsively, but she didn't like to remain immobilized by doubts either.  Harry liked her, she was sure of it.  And if he wasn’t interested in her the way she was in him, what was really the worst that could happen?  Nothing so bad that she couldn't still imagine the best that could happen.  She walked towards him, a tiny smile on her face.  “I’m a little sorry to have broken my streak,” she said.  “But I don’t regret marrying you.”  She was close enough then to brace her hand on the chair to steady herself- and she moved to straddle his lap, knees on either side of his hips.  “Not at all.”

She was close enough to hear- even feel- him inhale.  One of his hands came to rest on her thigh, where the towel was hiked up.  “It’s not the middle ages," he said.  "No one is going to check that our marriage was consummated.”

His hand flexed on her skin, and it was enough that her confidence did not falter.  She pushed still-damp hair back with one hand and touched his face with the other.  “I know,” she said.  “But I want-”

“Oh,” he breathed.  His fingers tightened, digging into her thigh.  His other hand climbed up her back until it came to rest on the bare skin between her shoulder blades.  “Come here, then.”

She did, bending the rest of the way to kiss him fiercely.  He kissed her back just right, with no hesitation, no messing around.  His hand slid up again, getting into her hair and gripping a handful of it.  His lips worked down to her jaw, and he tilted her head back to give himself better access.  “All right?” he asked, voice pleasantly gravelly. 

"Yes,” she said, tilting her head back further as he kissed down her neck.  “Should we have been doing this months ago, do you think?”

He hummed and lifted his head, nuzzling her nose and kissing her lips again.  “I wanted to.”

“You should’ve said,” Roxy told him.  She shifted positions to rock against him and found him half hard. 

He groaned softly.  “It certainly looks that way.”

Her hand worked its way into his hair and she gave it a firm tug.  “Really, though, Harry.  Why didn’t you-”

“Perhaps I didn’t fancy getting my arm broken if I read you wrong.”

She laughed, but said, “Be serious.”  She gave his hair another tug.  He knew her better than that.  She might, in fact, have broken the arm of a stranger whose hand she found up her skirt one time, but she would take a gentlemanly proposition in exactly the spirit it was intended- saying yes or no with politeness.  And _she_ knew _him_ better than to think he would have been anything other than gentlemanly.

“All right,” he said.  “Perhaps I didn’t fancy putting our partnership in jeopardy.  I am rather fond of it.”

She would have teased him about that as well if she hadn't thought the same a few times, but she had- so she just kissed him again. 

“Anyway,” he said after a while.  “I shouldn’t have liked to make an enemy of Percival.”

She took that, too, in the spirit it was intended and laughed again. Given his expression when they married she thought it might have been too late, but it wouldn't be like Percival to behave as though she couldn’t handle any interest- reciprocated or otherwise- that came her way.  “Perhaps I didn’t want to make any enemies either,” she said. 

Harry snorted.  “Who, may I ask?  You know what I think of my family and what they think of me.  Merlin prefers to pass judgement on my love life from a safe distance- and between the two of us Eggsy will have no idea who to give the shovel talk to.”

Roxy’s laugh that time was a little more like a giggle- but she found herself feeling sorry, all the same.  Sorry that he had no one to disapprove of their scandalous affair.  She kissed him again.  “Well then,” she said.  “I shall go after you quite shamelessly in the future.”

His laughter was soft against her cheek, his hand just firm enough on her neck.  “But we’re already husband and wife.”

“Are we?”

His hand drifted down to her back again and the ring he wore felt cool against her skin.  Her own caught the light as she touched his cheek.  “Unless I’m much mistaken.”

“But I haven’t gotten to consummate yet.”

“Well,” he said.  “Perhaps we had better remedy that.”  His hand slid lower still, his fingers catching on the towel.  He lifted an eyebrow at her, a question.  A request for permission.

Roxy nodded. 

Harry’s smile was a trifle wolfish as he gave the towel a tug.  It fell away and pooled on the floor at Harry’s feet, quickly forgotten.  Roxy sat back a little in his lap, wanting to take a good look at him while he looked at her in turn.  His eyes were wonderfully heavy as they slipped from her face to her neck and then down. 

He leaned in a moment later and his lips followed the same path, sliding along the line of her jaw, down her throat, and across her collarbone.  His hands came up again, one cradling her ribcage while the other went to her breast.  The brush of his calloused palm over her nipple made her skin prickle in a not-unpleasant way, but she still said, “Those have never done a whole lot for me, I’m afraid.”

“Understood,” he murmured.  He kissed her breast lightly, but where some men would have interpreted what she said as a challenge he took her at her word and moved on.  He braced her with his arms around her waist and lifted, standing up.  She laughed, wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms around his shoulders. 

“All right?” he asked again.

“Yes,” she said as he took a few steps toward the bed.  “Yes,” she repeated as he spilled her out on it. 

He landed next to- rather than on top of- her with one arm thrown out over her chest and braced in the bedclothes.  “Feeling more married?” he asked, his voice half a growl. 

“Getting there,” she said, letting her legs, already parted, open a little wider.

“Ah,” Harry said.  He pressed a kiss to the plane of her stomach and then nuzzled down, settling right where she directed him.  “Hmm,” he said frowning a little as he looked at her.  “Do you normally-”

Roxy looked in the same direction, remembering that his head- all lovely and dark between her legs- was currently the only hairy thing down there.  “No.”  She reached down and touched him, fingers slipping through that hair.  “Why?”

He gave a little shrug.  “Just curious.”

She cocked her head to one side.  “Would you rather I didn’t?”

“It's not precisely up to me, but yes.”

She laughed and gave his hair another tug.  “Noted.  But for now, why don’t you get to it?”

He did as instructed, wasting no time burying his head the rest of the way between her legs.  He kissed around her stomach and hips while his hand came up, fingertips just lightly touching at first as he figured out how much pressure she liked against her clit.  She didn’t mind the soft touch, but her hips worked a little anyway, following his touch.  She didn't tend to need a lot of build-up.  “Ah,” he said, and applied a little more pressure. 

He kept kissing her stomach as his fingers slipped a little lower, one working gently into her.

“Allow me-” he started, and moved off a little before things had time to get interesting.  With his free hand he guided her leg up, hooking it around his shoulder as his dark eyes flashed up to meet hers.  Then he bent again and-

_Oh_.

Yes, that was very good indeed.

Harry- Roxy found out- gave head with remarkable enthusiasm.  His tongue, normally put to good use talking them out of- and sometimes into- all sorts of difficult situations, flickered out across her clit, all hot and wet, and his clever fingers slid inside her again, rubbing carefully.   

There was something just slightly scientific to his touch, which Roxy didn’t mind after he had made a few discoveries and her brain practically whited out altogether. 

In her defense, it had been just Roxy and her own hand for rather a long time.

She didn’t feel there was anything particularly sad about that.  There was a lot to be said for someone who knew what you liked and Roxy always knew what she liked- not to mention that she had so far found relationships to be more work than they were worth.  But Harry was... different, somehow.  He was easy to be around, and even when he wasn’t Roxy never felt as though it cost her more than she was willing to give to make it work anyway.  And- well.  Judging from the way she felt right now, he was more than willing to learn what she liked too and give it to her- again, and again.

And again. 

Roxy’s hips worked her back up into his mouth, and when the teasing pressure of his tongue got to be too much and not enough at the same time she heard him murmuring, “All right, it’s all right.”  And no, actually- all right was most definitely not the word, not when his fingers slid out of her and got to work on her clit right alongside the silken heat of his mouth.  She didn’t need as light a touch as some women did- which yes, she did know from experience- and he was quick to figure that out.  When she felt her orgasm building he was right there, helping her follow it all the way to the edge and then over, making her shudder and cry out against him.

Roxy's limbs normally felt a little jelly-like after, but it didn't take much for her to get her breath back- and her mind was often unusually sharp after.    

She unhooked her leg from his shoulders and peered down.  He was wiping his lips with the back of his hand and looking very self-satisfied.  From another man she might have found that aggravating, but this was Harry, and she had seen him like that so many times in the field.  It was a good look on him. 

She found his hair and curled her fingers into it.  “Get up here,” she said. 

His lips quirked and he did, climbing up to press against her side and find her mouth.  She tasted herself on his tongue and enjoyed that immensely.  Then she curled a leg around him and used her body weight to push him over onto his back and straddle him.  “All right?” it was her turn to ask.  Her hair fanned out as she leaned over him. 

“Yes,” he said, his eyes warm.  He gathered her hair back from her neck gently, then cupped her face in a calloused palm and kissed her again.

“Any requests?” she asked.  She leaned back and she could feel him, fully hard now, pressing against her through his trousers.

“I am at your disposal, Miss- Mrs. Hart.”

“Hmm.  I like that.”

“Being Mrs. Hart or being called it?”

"Both.”  Roxy looked down, sliding her hands up the flat plane of Harry’s chest, and kissed him.  “Not the best position for undressing you, is it?” she asked against his lips. 

His hands came back to rest on her thighs.  “You could always... move.”

She rocked backward again thoughtfully.  “I think not,” she said.  “I’m quite happy where I am.”  She reached back, fumbling only slightly as she undid his belt from that angle.  “I have, I confess, fantasized on occasion about-” she undid his trouser buttons- “messing you up a little.”  She pushed her fingers into his pants and almost made a very unladylike sound when she got him free.  “There’s time for everything, yes?”

Harry hummed softly.  “As I said- I am at your disposal, Mrs. Hart.”

Roxy gave him a stroke for that.  She really did like the sound of it. 

She liked the way he looked when she touched him, too.  His eyelids fluttered and his lips hung slack as his hips worked up just a little- like an involuntary twitch.  She stroked the length of him for a while, enjoying how hot and hard he felt under her hand.  The coarse curls of hair around the base, the tapered swell of the head.  The droplets of moisture leaking from the slit.  She applied a little pressure with her fingertip, just there, and he groaned softly.

“Mmm,” she said.  She liked his cock very much indeed, and since she wasn’t keen on leaving this spot there was really only one thing left for her to do. 

“Are you up to what I think you are?” Harry asked.

“I suppose that depends what you think I’m up to,” Roxy said.  “But I expect so.”

“Well,” he said.  “My lack of undress could be to your advantage, if you check my pockets.”

She did so, and found several condoms.  “Confident,” she said.  She didn’t mind, of course.  Now that they were more or less on the same page, she liked to think that he had wanted her all this time and never given any sign.

“I wanted to be prepared,” Harry replied.

If she was honest, Roxy rather liked the idea of going bare.  Her life was unfortunately too unpredictable for her to be as confident as she liked to be in terms of birth control- but perhaps that didn't matter all that much.  Roxy went still as she caught herself in that thought.  She had never been quite sure how she felt about having children.  Sometimes she wondered if she was anywhere near maternal enough to try; other times she thought it might be... nice. 

But it was one thing to occasionally ponder some future in which she was happy and settled with a person she wanted to start a family with.  Roxy had rarely believed that time would actually come.  She could die relatively young, like most of the Lancelots before her- or she could get to Harry’s age without thinking much about the future, and finally realize that the future had come and gone. 

It was another thing to look down at Harry now and think _he’s my husband, isn’t he_?  And then _what if we tried_?  _What if carrying on the family line isn't such a bad thing?_

This was not the time or the place to have the conversation they would need to have before they even tried- but the fact that she had wanted to startled Roxy.

“All right?” Harry asked, his hand warm and gentle on her thigh.

“I was just thinking about something.”

“A mood killing something?”

Harry’s tone was light, but Roxy could tell that he was serious- they could slow down, or stop altogether if she wanted.  But she didn't.  “No,” she said.  She didn't want to waste any more time. 

She reached behind herself and touched him again, sliding the condom on and getting him ready.  She got up on her knees then, enough to sit back a little and line him up.  She was still sopping wet, but it had been a while since she did this last.  She didn’t rush, just slowly eased herself down.  She loved how he looked underneath her, loved the worshipful look on his face, the way his dark eyes fluttered as he oh-so-slowly slid home.  She liked the size of him, the width, liked how full she felt with him in her.  “Mmm,” she murmured, once she was fully seated back on his hips.  She started rocking again, sliding her hands up his chest as she leaned down and kissed him.

Harry lifted one hand, brushing her hair back over her shoulder, touching her face and neck. 

“You’re so still,” she said quietly.  Beyond that light touch, he might as well have been carved out of stone.

“I can be unobtrusive.”

“Well.  You’re actually quite good at it.”  His eyes flared a little at the praise, and Roxy filed that away from later investigation.  “You should try it in the field sometime.”

Harry laughed warmly.  “I shouldn’t like to do anything you wouldn’t like.”

“Oh,” she said, sitting back a little and rocking again.  “I like.”

“Good,” he murmured in turn.  He moved his hips a little beneath her, not trying to speed her up or to take control, just a pleasant counterpoint to her own movements.

“Mmm,” she murmured, head canting back as he moved inside her just right.  “That’s it.”

He did speed up a little then, but no more than she liked.  “You look stunning up there,” he murmured as his hands went around her waist, tracking up and down- gliding over the small of her back and smoothing up to her shoulder blades, her neck, her hair. 

She looked down at him, at the almost-awe on his face.  “Don’t get sappy,” she said as he pulled her down into a kiss.  She liked it, though- how he sounded when he said it, how he held her like she was beyond precious, how his lips opened for her without a thought.  She bore down on him a little, enjoying the sensations- the slide of him inside her, the pressure, the heat.

“Heaven forefend,” he said, but his breath hitched as he pushed up to meet her at just the right angle.

She groaned against his lips.

“Shall I-” he began, turning to kiss along her jaw and neck.  He didn't finish, nor did he need to.  One of his hands remained cradling her lower back while the other stroked over her hip and thigh before it came around to tease at her clit.  He applied just the lightest pressure, enough to feel good but not enough to finish her.  She would have protested, except that she had known him long enough to know guess what he was going for.  Her hips started moving almost in spite of her, working her into his hand, and it felt amazing with him underneath her and in her like he was.  Judging by his expression, by the soft pants coming from between his lips, it felt very good for him too.

“Come on,” she said, after she’d had enough time to get just the right rhythm going and she could feel _more_ building, sparking on the edge of her vision and making her heart pound in her chest.  “You can do better than that.”

Harry laughed breathlessly, soft against the sensitive skin along her throat, and started moving in earnest, grip tightening around her waist even as he never once let up the pressure on her clit.  He slid deep and she jerked against him, starting to come at last.  It was another good one, too- her head canted back again as she crested that wave and her vision practically whited out.  But she could still feel him moving underneath her, thrusts getting uneven as he came too, hand on the back of her neck and sliding into her hair as he drew their mouths together again.

"Good team work," she murmured as she collapsed onto his chest and turned her head to kiss him there.

“Mmm,” was his only reply as he ran his fingers through her hair.

Roxy chose to take it as agreement.

*   *   *

Roxy dozed for a while.  Harry had his arms around her still and he traced patterns down her neck with fingers so light she hardly felt them, hardly noticed they were there.  She was consistently amazed by how secure she felt with him.  Not protected- at least, not in a way that made her feel less able to protect herself- just safe.  Like if she let her guard down a little more than she was used to, he would have her back.  And as dozy and easy as she felt now, she also felt more refreshed than she had in ages.

Maybe there was something to this vacation business after all. 

She was hungry again, and anyway they had work to do, but she didn't much want to move.  Then again... "Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

Harry was quiet for a while.  “Are you thinking _shall we wrap the mission part up so we can spend as much of our remaining time as possible in bed?_   Because if so, yes I am.”   

Roxy laughed and lifted her head, scooting up a little along the bed so she could kiss his lips.  “That’s exactly what I was thinking,” she said.  “It is our honeymoon, after all.”

*   *   *

And it was a honeymoon well spent, she soon decided.

Roxy won the bet regarding which restaurant their targets would eat in that night.  By the time she and Harry had both showered again and gotten dressed for dinner it was relatively late, and said targets were just leaving.  Harry bumped into the husband on their way inside, easily planting a bug, and by the time they finished their dinner there was enough information to send off to Merlin, who instructed them not to involve themselves further.  Other agents would pick up their targets when they returned home.  

On their way back to the room, it started raining.  Roxy was used to rain, of course- but not rain so warm, or so surprisingly pleasant.  The moon was visible in the distance, still, and pale light sparkled on the droplets across Harry’s face.  He laughed.  She loved the lines on his face when he laughed. 

She extended a hand.  “Come on,” she said.  “I’ve always wanted to run for cover holding hands with someone.”

“Who am I to argue with that?”  Harry's fingers wrapped tightly around hers and tugged. 

Roxy was still laughing when they arrived back at their room.  Harry ducked into the bathroom and tossed her a towel, which she caught neatly and used to ring her hair out with.  “That,” she said happily, “was a job well done.”

“I would’ve ordered champagne if I’d known it would be over so quickly,” he said. 

She waved that off, setting the towel aside and letting her fingers go to the buttons of her dress, which was patterned with flowers and soaked clean through.  “Who needs champagne to celebrate?” she said.  From the path his eyes tracked down her chest as she slowly revealed it, Harry agreed.  

Roxy grinned, pleased to get hers after the way he looked in his swimming trunks earlier.  She let the dress slip off her shoulders and hips, then stepped closer to Harry, tugging him toward her by his belt loops.  He kissed her, hands smoothing up her back.  His fingers tucked under her bra strap briefly, like a question, and then he gently undid the hooks and let it fall to the floor.  Roxy pressed even closer.  She still didn’t consider her breasts among the more interesting portions of her anatomy, but she had to admit that it felt nice- the way her nipples, drawn up tight and over-sensitized, rubbed up against his wet shirt.  Nice enough, she decided, to explore further.  One of his hands was resting on her hip and she lifted it, letting it drag up her belly to her breast. 

He hummed against her lips, thumb dragging over a nipple.  “You said you didn’t particularly like that.”

“I’m still willing to explore it,” she said.  “You like touching me there, don’t you?”

“I like finding out what you like,” he corrected.  “But... yes.  Very much.”

She kissed him again as he cupped her breast, pressing up against him.  Her thigh wedged up between his legs and she found that...  She backed off a little and raised an eyebrow.  “Not _that_ much, apparently.”

He looked down.  “Ah,” he said, tone a little wry.  “That’s how it is, sometimes, after an adrenaline rush.  Especially so soon after the last time."  He didn't add _for a man of my age_ , but it was certainly implied.  "I may not be altogether with you tonight.”

Roxy considered that.  She was more than game to try to interest him, but she suspected it wouldn’t do much good.  Harry was less caught up in macho bullshit than most men, but he was still a man- there were certain things men didn’t own to unless they didn’t think they could help it.  “We could play cards,” she said, backing off a little. 

“We could,” he replied, his eyes crinkling a little.  That was good, she thought.  That meant he didn’t feel too bad about the whole thing.  “Or...” and he tugged her back toward him gently.  “We could continue in this vein.”

She wouldn’t deny that she’d been enjoying herself.  “If you’re sure you aren't just humoring me.”

Harry laughed softly, nuzzling the side of her head.  “Have you ever known me to do that?”

“No,” she said, settling against his chest again.  She wasn’t as turned on as she had been a moment ago, but it wouldn’t take much to get her there again.  “But we weren’t like this before.”

He kissed the sensitive area where her neck met her ear.  “Are things really so different now?”

“No,” she admitted, her fingers curling into fists around the fabric of his shirt as he nibbled at her skin.  It both warmed and terrified her- how easy it was between them.  How easy it had been from the very start.

“Then let me catch you,” he said.  "Like I always do."  His hands, warm and bracing, tightened around her waist and her arse, lifting her up altogether. 

She laughed and held on as he carried her toward the couch at one end of the room.  “I’m not sure how much I like this being hauled around like a sack of potatoes.”

“Is that right?” he asked.  He set her straight down, but his eyes glowed like he was teasing- which was good, because she certainly had been. 

She backed up until her knees hit the couch and then tugged him down with her.  He landed beside her on the couch and leaned over to catch her lips.  

“What else are you not sure how much you like?” he asked between kisses.

“You know what.”

He nosed down her neck, kissing her collarbone gently, and kept going.  Hi mouth was hot and slick, sliding over the swell of her breast.  It didn’t feel much different to her than being kissed anywhere else, except that she was a little more tender in that area- but she didn’t dislike it either.  He said, “Let me know when you make up your mind.”

She nodded, and then her head rolled back against the couch as he got to work. 

And she certainly was enjoying it- the way it felt when he explored her with his mouth, no particular end in sight.  Oh, she thought she would probably come at some point- she thought he probably thought so too- but there was a gentle ease in how he touched her, no fumbling or frenzy.  He slid his tongue along the curve of her breast and then sucked at her nipple, even tweaking it lightly with teeth.  It felt... warm, intimate, not uncomfortable but not amazing either.  And then one of his hands slid down her stomach, the callouses on his hands teasing and tickling and making her hair stand on end.  He tucked his hand in between her thighs and touched her already wet panties, a fingertip teasing along her clit through the fabric.  Something about it, combined with the tugging of his mouth at her nipple made it feel different somehow.  Actually kind of amazing.  She curled an arm around him and made a fist of his hair, tugging his head up to meet her lips again. 

He hummed into the kiss and kissed her back, settling against her side.  His hand, still pressed up against her pants, was motionless for a moment, then two, and then he started to move again gently, rubbing until he found just the right rhythm to start her hips moving and working her back up against him.

She came like that, a little sooner than she had expected, gasping for air and not wanting to let go of him either.

“All right?” he asked again, drawing his hand out to touch her face with damp fingers.

“What do you think?” she asked, climbing into his lap to kiss him some more.     

*   *   *

The next day was a lazy one.  They ordered room service and sat out on the balcony for a while.  Roxy sunned herself and started to get caught up on her reading.  Harry did a crossword, and after a while she put her feet up on the side of his chair. 

Without looking up, he reached out with his free hand and brushed the side of her foot lightly.  “Not ticklish?” he asked.

She smiled and shook her head.

He smiled back and returned to his crossword, absently massaging her foot as he worked.

Later, after the sun went down, there was some kind of party going on near the hotel.  She could hear music and see distant lights from the balcony.  It was still warm out, and she leaned against the railing and swayed a little to the music.

“You could go down there, if you wanted,” Harry said, settling against the railing beside her. 

“Do _you_ want to?” she asked.  She suspected he hadn’t included himself for a reason, but she had to ask.

He waved her off.  "I thought I’d have an early night.  I just don’t want you to feel that you have to stay here cooped up with me.”

"I wouldn't," she told him, eyeing him sidelong.  "But I like it here with you."

He hesitated. 

"I mean it, Harry.  I’ve never been the party type.  It’s not so bad when I’m undercover, but otherwise I just end up standing on the sidelines, thinking about the exits and what would happen if someone pulled a gun.”

Harry laughed delightedly.  “Are you telling me that our Lancelot is a wallflower?”

She sniffed.  “I find it difficult to relax in that kind of setting.  Feels like I’m always ‘on’.  It is not _fun_.  Let's say I'm an old soul."

Harry laughed again.  He pushed off the railing and made his way toward her.  His arms went around her waist and he settled against her back.  “Now I really feel like an old man.  The one with the young lover who goes on and on about how worldly wise she is.”

She lifted her head, craning a little to look up at him.  “I _am_ worldly wise,” she said.  “Ask anyone at Kingsman.”

“I don’t think I will,” he said, eyes dancing.  “I’m not sure my pride could take the comparisons between us that would inevitably draw."

"Yes, those would probably sting."

He caught her smiling lips in a kiss, one of his hands coming up to cradle her neck. 

The positioning was very awkward.  Harry was so tall, and they were kissing half upside down.  She pressed one more kiss- a little closed-mouthed one- to his lips and turned around in his arms, kissing his chest through his shirt instead.  He kept holding her, his hands resting pleasantly against her back.  “Why don’t we just dance up here?” she said, pressing closer still and swaying a little more.

He gave a strangled almost-growl and kissed her hair.

“Oh,” she said, when she realized why.  She was rubbing against him, and he was starting to get hard.  “There you are,” she said.

He looked down at the non-existent space between them.  “There I am,” he agreed.

She couldn’t tell if the comic surprise on his face when she looked back up was genuine or feigned for her benefit.  Either way she was going to enjoy this. 

She let her hands drop and started to undo his trousers.  She kissed his neck a few times, right above his collar where the skin was soft, as she worked.  They were so close, and she was confident that- on the off chance that anyone looked up at their balcony- she would cover anything... indecent.  Not that he seemed to care much about that. 

Although he did murmur against her hairline, “I always thought there might be bit of an exhibitionist in you.”

“Me?” she asked innocently.  She stroked him almost curiously.  She had liked touching him the other night, but it was different now- not in a bad way, just different.  She liked the way he moved just slightly against her when she touched him, liked the way his breath stuttered and huffed across her skin.  She had to crane her head to look up at him, which was annoying, but not enough to make her want to stop.  His eyes fluttered closed and his lips parted. 

“I should-” his hips shoved him forward a little, into the circle of her fingers. 

"Should what?” she asked. 

“Make sure you that don’t feel you owe me anything.  For the other day, you know.  Tit for tat, and all.”

She couldn’t decide if she found it sweet or aggravating that he asked.  They were still figuring each other out to a certain extent, and it was important to check that they were on the same page about these things- she knew that.  But at the same time, she was more in the mood to touch than be touched right at the moment.  Sometimes she got like that, and it bothered her that- if she acted on it- it would be considered somehow degrading, while what he had done the other day was somehow noble. 

It was less bullshit than the idea that she wasn’t even supposed to enjoy sex at all, but it was still bullshit. 

Roxy just held his eyes and gave him a long, smooth tug.  “I want to.”  Something he saw in her face or felt in her touch made him nod breathlessly, and she didn’t wait for more.  She pushed him back into the curtains around the sliding door, until they were both obscured by the fabric, and then dropped to her knees. 

He sort of sighed out, “Oh,” and then his fingers were running lightly through her hair.  He was almost fully hard from just the touch of her hand, and a few sweeps of her tongue over the tip were enough to get him the rest of the way there.  She liked the thick taste of him, the heaviness on her tongue.  She liked doing this in general; considering how much Harry clearly enjoyed giving her head, he would probably understand that.  

“You can hold me a little harder,” she said before she ducked down and swallowed more of him.

He tightened his grip and she moaned around him.  She liked having her hair pulled a little, liked how the edge of pain sharpened her focus- and she especially liked how, when she sucked, she could tell how good she was making him feel from how his grip tightened and loosened.  And he had such big hands that he could curl his thumb around her face and trace the curve of her lips where they opened wide.

“You are so beautiful,” he murmured.

She hummed in agreement.  Her throat was tight and pleasantly achy, and the reverence in his tone made other parts of her pulse and ache as well.  She chased that feeling, swallowing him deeper and only pulling off when she started to get light headed.  She sucked in a breath and kissed his cockhead, thinking how maybe she would like to be touched after all. 

“Do you want-” he started, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking at the same moment she thought it.

“Yes.”  And he tugged her up into a kiss, still holding handfuls of her hair.  “Still always prepared?” she asked, reaching into his pocket. 

“Let’s find out,” he replied. 

She fished around for a condom and found one, unwrapping and sliding it on.  “Good?” she asked.

“Fantastic,” he replied, pushing her back into the curtains in turn.  His lips were on hers as he reached down, big hands sliding over her thighs as he hiked up her skirt.  His fingers found the leg hole of her panties.  “Lace?” he asked in her ear, pressing wet kisses around the side of her face.

“Mmm.  And they’re sexy, too, it’s a shame you’re missing them.”

“You think this isn’t sexy?” he asked, his fingers working into the opening to tease over her clit.

Obviously he knew she did think so or she wouldn’t be so wet, but she said, “Oh, it is.”  Harry was in more casual clothes than usual- beige trousers and a loose-fitting shirt- but he always looked immaculate whatever he wore.  The picture he made, so gorgeously put together, with his cock out, hard and gleaming for _her_ , was enough to make her sorry she didn’t have her glasses on and recording.  She was painfully turned on.  She liked to take her time, liked the slow drag and smooth heat of skin on skin contact- so sex half-dressed had always struck her unnecessarily rushed, but...  But after the other night, and now this, Harry was just possibly changing her views about that.  “Get over here,” she said, pulling him closer.

To his credit, Harry didn’t misunderstand.  He pressed closer, kissing her, and at the same time he hooked one hand under her knee, lifting her leg enough to work open the leg hole of her panties a little further and guide himself inside her with the other.

“Christ,” she said, clinging to his jacket as he filled her in a single smooth thrust.

“In a good way?” he asked.

“The best.”  She hooked her leg around his thigh.  It wouldn’t be long before this started to get uncomfortable, but she wasn’t sure, once he started moving, that she would last anywhere near long enough for it to matter. 

“I’m close,” he told her right as she was thinking that.

“Good,” she said, working her hands up to the back of his neck and into his hair.  He stilled briefly, maybe doubting, and she clenched her fists.  Judging from the way his hips stuttered, he liked having his hair pulled too.  “Trust me,” she said. 

That had the desired effect.  He shifted a little to find just the right angle, and just kept going.  She held on to him as he fucked her.  She didn’t think anyone would be looking, didn’t think anyone would see even if they did, but she thought about the picture they would make all the same- hardly any skin showing, but what they were doing distinctly obvious all the same. 

Harry must have been right that she was a bit of an exhibitionist, because that thought, combined with his relentless motion, got her right up to the edge.  He moved his hand into position and touched her again, putting just the right amount of pressure on her clit, and that was it.  She came undone against him, and he fucked her through it.  In those few moments she spent feeling like nothing but spineless mush he shuddered against her and came too. 

“Oh,” she heard herself sigh out, holding his hair harder. 

“All right?” he breathed, panting against the side of her face.

She made, she assumed, some kind of response, because he let her go but only for long enough to straighten out her panties and dress.  Then he tugged her over to one of the lounge chairs, sitting down and guiding her to lie on top of him.  She let herself just drift like that for a while.  “This is nice,” she murmured, thinking it rather an understatement.

He hummed in agreement. 

She cuddled up against his chest.  “See?” she said.  “Who needs a party?”

*   *   *

They did go out on the last night of their vacation. 

It was Harry's idea.  Roxy had made an excellent case for staying in until he- rightfully- pointed out that they could have the best of both worlds.  Roxy was pleasantly relaxed by dinner, and they ate at the same restaurant they had breakfast in that first day.  Then they walked on the beach as the sun went down.

On impulse, Roxy took off her shoes to feel the sand between her toes. 

“Let me,” Harry said, reaching out.  He looped his fingers through the straps to carry them and put his arm around her waist, drawing her closer and kissing the top of her head.  “Are you ready?”

“Ready for what?”

"To get back to civilization.”

Though no one was likely to be listening or to care- the beach was far from crowded at that hour- the words were exactly what Roxy might have expected to hear between a newly married couple at the end of their honeymoon.  And yet... they were meaningful in a private way as well.  She could hardly blame him (or herself, for that matter) for a little apprehension.  For wondering if what had grown up between them would survive the return to the real world.

But there was little point in worrying about it now, so she got up on her toes to give him a quick kiss.  "Yes.  But we’re not going home quite yet, are we?”

His gaze darkened and he shook his head. 

“Then catch me if you can.”  She snatched her shoes away from him and ran, darting out into the tiny waves lapping at the shore.  She could hear him laughing as he caught up with her, catching her around the waist again and kissing her again.

She twined her arms around his neck.  Her shoes were still in her hands, getting sand all down his back.  But she didn’t care, and he didn’t seem to either. 

*   *   *

“Why does jet lag always hit so much harder at home?” Roxy asked, thinking out loud. 

She was no stranger to time zone changes or jet lag, of course- but she hadn’t come back from a vacation like this before.  All that relaxing had set her off balance. 

Harry didn’t answer, but he didn’t really have to.  He was at her side, warm and humming softly as he filled out his own report on the events of their mission.  That was all the solidarity she needed.

Roxy yawned widely.  "I need coffee," she said, rising.  "Would you like some?"

Harry blinked a little, then smiled.  "Yes, thank you.  That would be lovely."

She leaned over the desk to give him quick kiss.  It was odd, but nice, to be with him like this at HQ.  She had thought seriously about avoiding him when they first arrived, but after a talk with Percival to ensure that she was forgiven she thought better of it.  So they reported in to Merlin together, and then returned together to an office- hers, because it was closest- to do some paperwork.  It hadn’t taken her long to relax, to feel easy with him again.  To decide that actually, as far as their work was concerned, nothing much had changed.

It was a slow day for Kingsman, and the hallways were quiet, and Roxy had to admit that she didn't pay a lot of attention on her way to the kitchen. 

Suddenly a hand gripped her and she was tugged unceremoniously into a supply room.  Roxy nearly panicked, nearly punched the owner of the hand on the nose, before she realized it was Eggsy.  “What’s going on?” she asked- keeping her voice low in case HQ had been infiltrated without her noticing or something.

“I think I should maybe be asking you that,” Eggsy said.

She blinked, craning to look at him. 

“You’re the one that got married in secret.”

“Oh.”  Roxy had known- on an intellectual level, at least- that the news would spread while she and Harry were gone, and yet for some reason she hadn’t expected _this_.  “It wasn’t like that, Eggsy.  It’s not like Harry and I were carrying on for months without saying anything to anyone.  It was a legal thing, that’s all.  He needed to get married.”

Eggsy crossed his arms over his chest.  “So you’re not actually together?”

Roxy deflated a little.  “Okay, we are.  But that’s a recent development.”  She put on her best puppy dog eyes.  “Forgive me?”

Eggsy huffed, but she could tell he was thawing.  “I’m still not happy,” he warned.  “I dunno which of you to give the shovel talk to.”

Roxy snickered.  She couldn't help it, even though it played havoc with her puppy dog eyes.  “That’s what Harry said you’d say.”

Reluctantly, Eggsy laughed too.  “Look," he said finally, "just promise you won’t elope behind my back again, okay?”

“I don’t think there’s much danger of that,” she said.  It was off-handed, and she didn’t entirely catch the implications until she saw the look of excitement on Eggsy’s face.

"You two are really gonna make a go of it?”

Roxy couldn’t predict the future, couldn’t know absolutely how this thing with Harry would work out.  For now, though, she thought it was enough that he made her happy, that if things went as she hoped they might be together for a very long time.  “I think so,” she said, though she would have to ask what Harry thought first.  For all she knew, he was thinking something very different.

Eggsy grinned and slung an arm around her shoulders.  “Congratulations,” he said.  “So.  D’you need help moving?”

She groaned.  She hadn’t even thought about that.

*   *   *

When Roxy brought up the subject of moving to Harry, the first thing he mentioned was the country house. 

He thought it hypocritical to just let the place gather dust after everything he had done- and all the people he had infuriated- to get it, but he didn't think it would be very convenient to live there permanently either.  Roxy suggested visits on weekends and holidays when they were free, and a house in the city the rest of the time.

That the house be Harry's seemed only logical to Roxy.  Her flat was too small for both of them and sparsely decorated besides.  And so a few days later Eggsy showed up with a van and two of his friends while Harry cleared out space for her at home.  Packing wasn't difficult; Roxy had little she cared to take with her- clothes, toiletries, knick-knacks, the series of watercolors Percival had bought her over the years...  It wasn’t much, but that didn't stop Eggsy and Ryan from comparing her things to Harry's as they were unpacked.  So far hers had won every round, and she didn't entirely disagree.  She was happy to keep the downstairs bathroom exactly as it was, if for no other reason than because the way Eggsy shuddered every time he went in there was funny, but the sitting room could definitely use an overhaul.

Such thoughts kept her mind busy for a while, but in truth she was still off balance from her talk with Eggsy and the things she had realized during it.  Even if Harry only wanted to stay married for a little while, living together was a legal and practical necessity.  She had yet to mention anything more than that to him.

So she liberated a box of sex toys from Jamal before he could crack it open, took it upstairs to the master bedroom, and used the excuse to linger.  She liked that room; it was luxurious but not over-decorated like a lot of the house, and Harry’s bed was amazing. As she stood by the foot of it toying with her ring, Roxy thought idly about how much she enjoyed sharing it with him. 

Roxy cursed inwardly.  It was that kind of thinking that had kept her from properly talking to him thus far. 

She heard a quiet knock on the door and glanced that way to see Harry standing in the doorway.  "Are you all right?" he asked. 

She nodded.  "I'm just in an... odd mood, I suppose."

“I’d say take all the time you need, but Eggsy says we’re done with most of the heavy lifting and he’s ordered a pizza to celebrate.”  Harry had a way of talking about Eggsy that was all surprised fondness, as if he didn’t know quite how he had ended up with such a person in his life.

Roxy often felt the same way.  "He's a good friend."  

“The best,” Harry agreed quietly.  He got closer- moving slow in case she didn’t want him to touch her- and she leaned back against his chest and drew his arms around her waist.  His breath hitched a little, but he went on, “Merlin would help a friend move bodies in a heartbeat, but move?  Never.”

Roxy laughed.  “Well, everyone has their limitations.  Anyway, I think you’re supposed to move bodies with me from now on.  Unless I’m wrong about what _til death do us part_ means.”

“Merlin did a civil ceremony, remember?  We didn’t say _til death do us part_.”

“Right,” Roxy said. She felt nice- pressed up against him, joking with him- and she doubted she would ever get a better window than this one.  She turned her head a little to look at him.  “What if I wanted to?”

Harry looked stunned for just fraction of a second before his face softened beautifully.  “I would say that I do too.”

And Roxy knew that didn’t guarantee permanence for them any more than it did for those couples who did say it in a church, but- well, it was enough that he wanted to try as much as she did.  Most things they decided on together they managed well enough.  She smiled and kissed him.

He kissed her back, deeply, and only pulled away when the doorbell rang. “That’ll be Eggsy’s pizza.”

She nodded, kissed him once more, and reached out a hand.  “Shall we, Mr. Hart?”

He grinned and took it.  "Indeed, Mrs. Hart."

**Author's Note:**

> Come see me on [tumblr](http://potentiality-26.tumblr.com/).


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